Under the streetlamp.
Walls swallowed the donut in his hand, wiped his palms casually on his uniform, and then quickened his pace in the direction where Matthew Lawrence had disappeared.
At this moment, Matthew Lawrence was still immersed in the joy of the scattered system points he had earned, completely unaware of Walls ‘following’ him from behind.
Of course, if that could even be called following.
Walls’ massive frame in the city looked just like the Michelin Man crawling out of a billboard; there was basically no cover on the street that could hide his obese figure.
On this rainy night, Matthew Lawrence kept pulling magical tools out of the cardboard box.
Soon, the needs of another block were met, and the cardboard box was empty, leaving only a shell.
After repeatedly checking, the homeless people on the street realized there was nothing left in the box that they wanted, so they finally stopped lingering around Matthew Lawrence and left, muttering curses.
For those Black homeless people who would rap and curse when they didn’t get what they wanted, Matthew Lawrence would lift his coat to reveal the dark, hard Glock pistol inside, making them recognize the reality of the situation.
Although Matthew Lawrence had no cigarettes or alcohol in his pockets, he could barely offer some peanuts to go with drinks.
And the kind that makes you faint upon eating.
Matthew Lawrence quickly flattened the cardboard box and was about to stuff it to some homeless person as a blanket when he caught a glimpse of a sallow, obviously malnourished, young figure standing not far away, gazing at him longingly.
“… Do you want this?” Matthew Lawrence shook the dismantled cardboard box in his hand.
The little one opened her mouth upon hearing this, as if she wanted to say something but was speechless.
After a few seconds of silence, she cautiously asked: “Sir, may I ask if you have any alcohol?”
“Alcohol?” Matthew Lawrence looked the child in front of him up and down.
She was short, her skin was sallow, clearly traces of long-term starvation.
“Children shouldn’t drink alcohol. Besides, compared to alcohol, I think you need bread, milk, or a hot burger and fried chicken more.”
Hearing “burger and fried chicken,” the little one clearly swallowed her saliva.
But she quickly shook her head: “Sir, thank you for your kindness… but, but if possible, I still want alcohol.”
Seeing her so persistent, Matthew Lawrence became interested.
He squatted down and beckoned to her with his finger.
Although the girl was timid, she eventually moved over.
“What is your name?”
“Alright, Nicole. Tell me, what exactly do you need alcohol for? If you tell me the truth, I can make an exception and buy you a bottle.” As he said this, he took a few banknotes out of his pocket.
The moment she saw the banknotes, Nicole’s eyes lit up, but she immediately suppressed her greed and answered honestly: “Sir, I don’t want the alcohol to drink… I just want to disinfect a wound.”
“Disinfect?”
“Yes.” Nicole nodded aggrievedly.
“Three months ago, Mom was accidentally wounded by a bullet during a gang fight on the street… We didn’t have money to see a Doctor, so she just kept dragging it out. Until a week ago, Mom’s whole body was burning hot. I asked the knowledgeable old Carter, and he said if we couldn’t find a Doctor, Mom might…”
“So you wanted to ask me for alcohol to disinfect it?”
“Yes…” Nicole nodded, tears mixing with raindrops, carving streaks on her dirt-covered face.
Looking at her pitiful appearance, Matthew Lawrence was silent for a moment, then stood up: “Take me to see her.”
“Anyway, I came here today to ‘benefit the people’. Benefiting those ungrateful guys is a service, and helping a poor person like you is also a service. Since that’s the case, I might as well help you.”
“But sir, you…” Nicole looked at Matthew Lawrence, her words hesitant.
“What? Do you think I can’t help you?”
“No, no!” Nicole quickly shook her head to explain.
“You can definitely help! It’s just… the place where I live is in Hells Kitchen, it’s too dangerous there. You are a good person, and I don’t want you to get into trouble because of me.”
“So, do you still want to save your mom or not?”
“If you do, then take me there.”
After these words, Nicole fell silent.
After struggling for a moment, she finally turned around and led Matthew Lawrence toward the direction of her “home.”
And behind the two of them.
Walls, who was hiding behind a public phone booth, saw Matthew Lawrence and a young, small girl walking into the distance, and his expression became exceptionally serious.
“This is Walls. I am currently following an adult male.”
“According to my observations, this person is suspected of being a pedophile and is currently walking toward another block with a girl under the age of ten. Before this, this male also had behaviors of distributing cigarettes, alcohol, and knives to homeless people. I suspect he not only has pedophilic tendencies but also mental illnesses.”
“Walls, what is his skin color?” A response came over the walkie-talkie.
“White.” Get faster updates on g.com.
“… Continue observing. I think your suspicion is wrong.”
Walls: “…”
“Of course, if there is concrete evidence, you can report to headquarters again, and we will immediately provide reinforcements.”
What kind of people are these.
Isn’t political correctness popular now?
Why are they still looking at people with colored glasses…
Although he said that, according to past practice, if a Black person were handing out knives, cigarettes, and alcohol on the street, he might have already rushed up and shouted: ‘Keep your hands where I can see them!’
Followed immediately by a thunderous tackle on that person, making it impossible for him to threaten him.
…
Hells Kitchen, as the center of sin in New York, which is almost the city of sin in the Marvel Universe, although it only has eight small streets, the evil here, I’m afraid, eight Satans couldn’t compare to.
Ordinary people walking on the streets of Hells Kitchen, even in broad daylight, could still at any moment have a Black guy walk up to you, pull a hard, cold object from his waist to press against your lower back, and say to you, “Bro, lend me some money.”
Therefore, this is also one of the most dangerous areas in the Marvel Universe.
Besides gang members operating here, the rest are the indigenous people of this place.
And here, all kinds of crimes are happening almost anywhere and at any time.
As for the patrol officers who patrol everywhere on weekdays…
Sorry, I only make five thousand U.S.
dollars a month whether I work or not; it’s not worth risking my life.
It is precisely this “three-no” situation that allows the chaos in Hells Kitchen to grow day by day.
The dim streets were filled with all kinds of strange odors.
If one had to describe it, it would probably be the smell of rotting corpses mixed with the stench of excrement, then fermented for a period of time, and finally wafting onto the street.
Taking one whiff, Matthew Lawrence knew there was something in the world even more extreme than canned herring and stinky amaranth stalks.
“Do you usually live here?”
“No… no, this is the area where Hells Kitchen dumps its trash. The place where I live is a bit further inside.” Nicole pointed in a direction.
Matthew Lawrence, who had long had enough of this nauseating smell, immediately pulled Nicole up and walked quickly in the direction she pointed, not wanting to stay for even a moment longer.